


The Whole Corporate Flirt Thing

by cannibalspicnic



Category: Succession (TV 2018)
Genre: Bruce Campbell-type OC, F/M, Jealousy, Masturbation, Missing Yacht Scene, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:28:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22513264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cannibalspicnic/pseuds/cannibalspicnic
Summary: kitnkabootle gave me this prompt literally last year, and it's been sitting half-written in a folder for about a month.Prompt: Roman is jealous because Gerri has a date.
Relationships: Gerri Kellman/Roman "Romulus" Roy
Comments: 16
Kudos: 84





	The Whole Corporate Flirt Thing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kitnkabootle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitnkabootle/gifts).



> So, in my head, Jackson Shemp is played by [Bruce Campbell](https://media2.fdncms.com/metrotimes/imager/u/original/19178570/screen_shot_2019-01-03_at_9.48.02_am.png), B movie king and star of the Evil Dead films. Also the guy who told Cousin Greg he had to be a sidekick in Sky High.

Gerri’s waiting for the elevator when Roman bounds up behind her. She’s become used to his end-of-day energy, when he can finally shed the serious work façade that she has painstakingly helped him build over the last several months. Together, they’d managed to hold onto Waystar by the skin of their teeth, but putting things back in order is still an all-consuming job.

“So,” he nudges her with his shoulder, “how about I pick you up tonight, and we can go to this circle jerk together? As CEO and COO of the company of course.” He’s referring to the gala they’ve arranged to distract from the recent fallout from Kendall’s vendetta and Logan’s resignation and legal battle. It’s a sort of move-it-along-nothing-to-see-here party.

Gerri clears her throat as they enter the elevator together. “I can’t, Roman.” She takes a deep breath. This is something she’d been avoiding for the past week. “I’m bringing a date.”

“The fuck you are!” he sputters. “You can’t be fucking serious.”

“It’s not a big deal, Rome. Cyd set it up. She’s been pushing me to go out with him for weeks, and I was running out of excuses to say no.”

“Him who? What wrinkled, Viagra-popping, cockwobble could _Cyd_ have picked out for you?”

Gerri sighs. This is going about as well as expected. “It’s Jackson Shemp.”

“What?! The braindead limpdick they brought in to replace Ravenhead?”

“I didn’t have a choice, Roman. I couldn’t get out of it.” She’s beginning to lose her patience.

“Sure, no fucking choice. I don’t understand why you couldn’t just tell her that we’re….” He trails off, floundering.

“That we’re what, Roman? Hmm? How were you planning on ending that sentence?” He doesn’t say anything. “Exactly. And you know this is not the time for anything to come out about whatever it is you think we’re doing here.” The elevator dings and the doors open to the lobby.

“Whatever,” he spits. “Have fun with Cuntface McCumrag.” He storms out. Gerri groans. She probably could have handled that better. It wasn’t long ago she wouldn’t have given two shits what Roman had to say about the situation, but that was before they got thrown into the deep end together, before the yacht, before the kiss.

*****

The breakfast bloodbath had just dispersed, and Gerri was in her room nursing a rather large glass of whiskey when she heard a knock on the door. It was Roman. Of course it was. She knew that before opening the door. He darted inside and sat on her bed, seething.

“I can’t believe those fuckwads tried to make you their scapegoat!”

Gerri approached him and gently ran her fingers through his hair. “Thank you, Roman.” He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch, visibly relaxing. “Thank you for defending me.” Physical contact wasn’t usually their thing, but she was struck by how natural it felt, standing over him, rewarding him with her caress—her loyal slime puppy.

He moaned softly, and the energy in the room shifted. Gerri’s hand traced down his jawline to lightly cup his chin as his eyes opened to meet her gaze. The raw, desperate _want_ on his face made her breath catch. She ran her thumb along his lip, and he whined in response.

“You finally did something right, you rotten little scumsucker.” Roman gave a sigh of pure relief while he unbuckled his belt. “Even a broken clock is right twice a day,” she told him, running her knuckles along his cheek as he pulled his cock out, already hard. “And that’s what you are, isn’t it? Broken. A sad, worthless joke of a man.”

“Y—yeah…please,” he begged hoarsely, stroking with increasing urgency. 

“Just a nasty, perverted child.” Arousal thrummed through Gerri. It was the first time they’d done this in the same room, the first time she could watch his reddening face and feel the beads of sweat form on his forehead. The first time she could see him, stiff and leaking. He jerked himself furiously, eyes watering but trained on her.

“You’re a pathetic rodent, you know that, Roman? The world could come crashing down on us at any second, and all you can do is fondle your tiny, defective dick.” She grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled hard. “Disgusting little fuckweasel.”

“Uh—ungh—fuuuuuuuck!” Roman’s eyes squeezed shut as he came, dribbling onto his pants and shirt. Gerri kept her hand on his head, petting him soothingly as he recovered. When his breathing steadied, she brought him a towel from the bathroom, and he cleaned himself up as best he could.

“I mean it Rome. Thank you for today.”

“I’m not gonna let them take you aw—I’m not gonna let them fuck you, ok?” He stood, and she met his gaze, smiling softly.

“Ok.”

Then he stepped into Gerri’s space, crowding her against the wall. His eyes were questioning, searching her face. Whatever he saw there must have been encouraging because he leaned in slowly, hesitantly. She lifted her chin and parted her lips to meet his. 

The kiss was…different. It was soft, and she enjoyed the light scrape of stubble across her face. It was a little slobbery considering the absence of tongue, and after it was done, Roman fled the room, and Gerri realized he had gotten a bit of cum on her dress. But it could have been worse. It was sweet, and it was theirs. It cemented something.

It was the only kiss they’d shared. With the turmoil that arose after Kendall’s press conference and the scramble to keep Waystar under their control, their professional alliance took precedence over any personal business. Late at night, Gerri still hissed over the phone that he was a useless, degenerate fuckup. In the light of day, though, Roman stood by her with the shareholders, followed her instructions without hesitation, and proved himself capable and intelligent.

*****

Gerri swirls her martini in the glass as she eyes her phone on the bar. Roman hasn’t called or texted since they fought in the elevator three hours ago. Usually, the only time she goes this long without getting at least an emoji from him is when he’s asleep. It feels wrong. _She_ feels wrong. It’s a feeling that’s both unfamiliar and unpleasant.

“…but I told him, that’s why ATN is so damned important! Otherwise you’d just have the liberal media pushing socialist propaganda onto an unsuspecting public.” Jackson Shemp is handsome, with a full head of salt-and-pepper hair and a chiseled jawline—both of which make him very appealing to the female ATN viewer aged 25-75, a fact he tells her before he even puts a drink in her hand.

Gerri smiles and drains her glass. “It’s good to hear you take your job so seriously.”

“Damn skippy I do!” he gives her a grin that falls between charming and used-car-salesman. “Gotta work hard to impress the big boss, especially when the big boss is such a beautiful woman.”

“Indeed,” Gerri deadpans, but Jackson’s grin remains in place.

“So, should we head on over to this shindig?”

Gerri nods and grabs her phone from the bar, slipping it into her clutch. Jackson puts a hand on her back as he escorts her out. He’s tall, 6’1” maybe? That used to be something Gerri liked in a man. Now, though, it just seems like he takes up too much space. He towers over her in a way that feels unnecessary.

The party is in full swing by the time they arrive. Jackson goes to get them some drinks, and Gerri scans the room but doesn’t see Roman. She does see Cyd slinking over with an expectant smile on her face.

“So,” Cyd drawls, “you two look great together.”

“He’s been lovely.” _But hardly worth the trouble_. 

“Jackson is perfect for you. He’s handsome, he’s charming, and he’s never been the type to chase after 20 year-olds, like most men in his position.”

“Careful, wouldn’t want to set the bar too high,” Gerri snarks.

“So, that’s the guy getting all those mid-western housewife panties soaked?” quips a familiar voice. Roman sidles in next to Gerri, and despite everything, part of her relaxes.

“Ah, Cyd!” Jackson’s voice booms as he returns, handing Gerri a fresh martini. “I can’t thank you enough for setting us up. I tell ya, she’s a hell of a gal!” He puts an overly large hand on her back, and she darts a glance at Roman. The little fucker’s smirking.

“Yeah,” Roman agrees. “What a _gal_ she is.” Gerri scowls.

“And I know you,” Jackson says, thrusting his hand out for what Gerri can only assume is a very hearty handshake. “Roman Roy, the right-hand man!”

Roman considers the hand for a moment, then slaps his palm defiantly. “Whichever hand gets the job done.”

“Roman has been indispensable,” Gerri says, and when their eyes meet, she knows he can hear her sincerity. “Without him, I don’t think we could have recovered.”

“Of course,” Cyd replies dismissively and turns to Jackson, “but Gerri is the true star here. No one thought she could do it, but she stepped up and saved our bacon!”

Gerri mutters a strained thanks.

“Well,” declares Jackson, “it was Nancy Reagan who said, ‘A woman is like a teabag—you never know how strong she is until you put her in hot water!’” It’s the second time tonight that he’s quoted Nancy Reagan, and Gerri takes a deep breath.

Roman snorts. “Another hell of a gal.”

“Ha! You’re not kidding! Hard to find a woman like that these days.” Jackson squeezes Gerri’s side, and she resists the urge to shake him off.

“Well, you kiddos have fun,” Roman says gleefully. “I think I’ll go…mingle. Put some meaning into some sad fucking underling lives.” He flashes Gerri a quick grin and disappears into the crowd. Apparently, her punishment is being left to finish this date.

The evening progresses at an agonizing pace. Jackson blusters his way through each conversation, winning everyone over with his buffoonish charisma. It’s been barely two hours, and he’s quoted Nancy Reagan three more times with increasing reverence. Gerri has the uncomfortable feeling that if she were to go to bed with him, there would be a teased wig and sensible, shoulder-padded dress waiting for her. 

Throughout the night, she finds Roman looking at her from across the room. A few times he catches her doing the same. Now that he’s seen for himself that there’s no real threat, she’s pretty sure she’s been forgiven. Jackson is regaling Karl with anecdotes of his acting days when Gerri’s phone buzzes in her purse. Grateful for a distraction, she pulls it out.

ROMAN: _There’s a private bathroom off the north hallway_

ROMAN: _gonna go check it out_

Gerri looks up just in time to see him ducking into the hall.

“I tell ya, though,” Jackson chuckles, “Nancy Reagan was right! ‘The movies were custard compared to politics!’”

“Excuse me,” Gerri interrupts, gesturing with her phone. “There’s a small business matter that needs attending. I’ll be back shortly.”

“Ha! Always hard at work! My kinda gal!”

He misses the grimace on her face as she walks away. She makes her way through the room, nodding and smiling to the rest of the guests. This is a terrible idea, but her feet carry her forward, and it’s all she can do to slow her pace as she reaches the hallway. Briefly glancing behind her to make sure no one is there, she approaches the door and knocks softly.

Roman opens the door and immediately pulls her inside, shutting it behind her. Suddenly, she’s being pushed against it, and he’s kissing her for the second time ever. And, oh, there’s tongue this time, a little too much at first, but he eases off a bit, and it’s…good. His body is flush with hers, and she can feel his arousal as his hands come to her waist.

Gerri’s reaches up and loops her arms around the back of his neck. She’s surprised how much she’s enjoying this. Roman moans, hands fluttering at her sides. After taking the lead, he seems unsure where to go from here and begins to whimper, lightly humping her gown. Back on familiar territory, she takes pity on him and gives him what he needs.

“Get off me, you vile little worm!” She pushes him away, not bothering to hide her smirk when he stumbles back, chest heaving. He licks his lips, waiting for more. Gerri turns to the mirror and swipes her thumb across her mouth. “You’ve ruined my lipstick. How dare you touch me.”

“Yesssss,” he hisses, unzipping his pants.

“No,” Gerri orders, stalking toward him. She pushes his jacket off his shoulders and yanks at his bowtie until it’s hanging down around his collar. “You are not going to soil your tuxedo, oozing all over it.” Roman’s hands are shaking as he tries to unbutton his shirt, and she bats them away to do it for him. “Incompetent brat.” As she finishes undoing the last of his buttons, she glances up to find him staring at her, eyes hooded.

He starts shrugging out of his shirt and jacket, and before they hit the floor she snaps in his face and points to the hook on the wall. Obediently, he hangs them up and turns, awaiting further instruction. “Stand over the sink,” Gerri says, and he swallows, moving into position. She comes up behind him and unhooks his pants, pushing them down his thighs along with his boxers. “You will not make a mess this time.” He nods enthusiastically.

Stepping back, she looks directly at him in the mirror. “Well? Get on with it.” Whining gratefully, Roman wraps a hand around himself, and starts moving, setting a pace slower than he can usually manage. “Look at yourself. Now you can see just how pathetic you look pawing at yourself, tugging at your revolting little prick.” He grunts, and she can see he’s trying to maintain control. That won’t do.

Gerri gets closer and runs a hand up his bare back, scraping her nails back down. He gasps, and she can feel his muscles tightening, and now he’s moving faster, restraint gone. “This is why they can’t know,” she spits. “You’re a filthy little cum-piggy, and you should be ashamed of yourself.”

His only response is a series of soft squeals. His eyes haven’t left her reflection, and it’s obvious he’s already close. Gerri’s hand slides around to his front, feeling his bare chest. Pressing herself into Roman’s back, she grabs his arm, halting his frantic motion. Their eyes meet in the mirror and she can see the understanding cross his face as he lets go of himself. He’s trembling as her hand replaces his, grasping his cock firmly.

“This is all you’ll ever be,” she whispers into his ear, stroking him slowly. He lets out a desperate moan. “A pitiful, rutting, little boy. You make me sick.” She bites down hard on his shoulder, and he groans, hips stuttering, thrusting helplessly into her hand as he spills himself into the sink. Gerri rubs his back as his breathing slows.

After a few moments, Roman grins at her. “You really are a hell of a gal, you know?”

She thumps him. “Fuck you.” He giggles, and she pushes him out of the way so she can wash her hands while he pulls his pants back up. Not rushing to get back into the rest of his tux, Roman leans against the wall and watches her fix her lipstick. “Roman Roy, you are not going to hide out in this bathroom the rest of the night. You better get dressed and get back out there.”

“Don’t want to go back at the same time. What will people say?” he asks, clutching imaginary pearls.

“Hmmmmm,” Gerri replies skeptically, reaching for the door.

“Hey,” he says, and she turns to look at him. “You’re not…you’re not gonna see that guy again, are you?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she teases, opening the door. “This date turned out a lot better than I expected.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry this took so long!
> 
> Comments are always appreciated.


End file.
